Fucked Up is a band that cheats death every performance, but they’re at an interesting point now: they’ve got an unprecedentedly large fan base that they’ve entirely earned after 2008's The Chemistry of Common Life, and they’re the only band working today that can create a safe space for hardcore kids to mosh as well as for those who only know the band because of Matador. Regardless of the fans, hardcore antics are what they are antics, and it's difficult to maintain such a regular dose of self-destruction. It’s hard to imagine Fucked Up without Damian Abraham front and center, but the band is good enough that it doesn’t need Abraham to destroy himself physically anymore to draw a crowd. Will the band famous for bringing danger back to indie have to grow up? If so, it’ll be damn hard to find a suitable replacement.
The Pains of Being Pure At Heart
No matter how good this band is, because the band is named The Pains of Being Pure At Heart, and because they are on Slumberland Records, D.C.’s premiere twee imprint, people are going to judge the Pains before even hearing them. I liked the band's self-titled debut, but I still couldn’t tell after several listens if I liked it for any reason other than that I also like the Vaselines and Beat Happening. Live, however, the Pains of Being Pure at Heart were a surprise success, as uplifting and intense as only a handful of bands that I’ve witnessed live. As a live band, the Pains sound less like wannabe Calvin Johnsons, and they didn't sound at all weak. Instead, the Pains sounded like what their biggest supporters have said they are: an indie pop band that, through the rabble and contradictions that genre has experienced this decade, have found a way to rediscover rock and roll without losing the charms that they started with.
Ponytail
Pity Final Fantasy, who can barely get their music heard over Ponytail’s Molly Siegel wailing from the other end of the park. After trying to ignore Ponytail briefly to watch Final Fantasy, I ended up inevitably finding my way to the Balance Stage, to see a band that has been lavished with praised for its inventiveness. What I found instead was one of those bands that could be better described as “interesting” than “good,” or even “a band I’d want to see again.” Ponytail’s appeal is limited to those who think Deerhoof’s Satomi Matsuzaki's singing is too “normal,” or those who confuse yelling with every instrument at the expense of composition, both musically and lyrically, is somehow intellectually fascinating. There’s a difference between being loud and being noisy, however, and Ponytail is one of the more blatant False Positives I’ve seen in some time.
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